


Gators

by Sera_Clay



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-26 11:32:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3849349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sera_Clay/pseuds/Sera_Clay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lizzington, G, fluff. </p>
<p>Written for FB LS SG; you know who you are. ;-)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gators

"Watch. You will see."

Dembe gestures down at the murky water, the far reaches of the lake glowing orange in the setting sun, that light not penetrating to the edge of the gently rocking yacht at its mooring.

Liz grasps the rail tight, the dark crimson fabric of her thin chiffon evening dress fluttering in the rising breeze, and leans down.

"I don't see them," she complains.

"What are you looking for?" 

Red saunters out of the main cabin, his fresh white linen suit immaculate, a straw fedora perched at a jaunty angle on his head.

"Gators," replies Dembe, pointing down with a tone of satisfaction. "Look."

Several bumps are visible now above the surface of the water, only a few faint ripples appearing before quickly vanishing. Eyes and snouts, their massive jaws hidden beneath the dark water.

Liz draws in a deep breath.

"How did they know?" she exclaims, glancing over at Dembe, who smiles broadly back at her. He's wearing loosely cut, natural linen slacks, and a white dress shirt open at the neck, a casual look that certainly suits him.

Red looks from one to the other.

"Know what?" he asks in a somewhat annoyed tone, tilting his head as if to compel a response. 

Liz looks over her shoulder at Red and smiles, then gestures to him to approach the rail.

"Dembe says they come when they hear your voice."

"Hmpf."

Red makes a noise that sounds almost like a grunt, and leans forward to look at the still, dark surface of the water below them.

More have arrived; they all face the side of the yacht, as if waiting for something.

"Perhaps they find me appealing?" Red postulates in a smooth tone, raising one eyebrow at Liz.

She gives him a wide smile, still clutching at the rail.

"How could they not? You'd be quite a meal."

The appreciation in her gaze robs her words of any possible sting.

"Well, I need to wash my hands before we eat," Liz announces, after a charged moment in which she and Red draw one breath in unison, then another. No longer looking at the water at all.

"I'll meet you below in a moment," adds Dembe. He holds the teak door open for Liz, then follows her inside.

Red looks down at the watching eyes, then back over his shoulder.

Then he pulls a small plastic bag from his pocket, and begins tossing marshmallows into the water as the sun sinks slowly below the horizon, a few last rays illuminating the tropical foliage, the sleek lines of the yacht.

It's just a small hobby, feeding the gators, but all his own.


End file.
